


Motivation

by DesireeArmfeldt



Category: due South
Genre: Addiction, Cigarettes, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray's done it before, he can do it again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motivation

Ray’s done this before. Enough times that he’s lost count. Five, that he can think of right now.

It’s hard, but it’s not impossible. He’s done it before. He knows the drill.

The trick is to keep busy, keep moving, so you don’t have as much time to think about it. But not so busy that you let down your guard. Don’t get so stressed out, or exhausted, or lonely that you decide it doesn’t matter if you slip, just this once, the relief will be worth it, you can always start over tomorrow, no big deal.

It will be a big deal. It’ll just make the whole thing harder, and harder, and there’s no guarantee that he’ll be able to fight his way through to the end if it gets too hard. He’s failed before, too.

The trick is to trick your body. Toothpicks, chewing gum, cat’s cradle—stuff for your mouth and fingers to fidget instead of a cigarette.

The trick is to keep moving. Jogging, boxing, dancing—anything to raise a sweat, get the heart pounding, give the body a job to get done. It doesn’t make the cravings go away, but it makes it harder for them to settle in and make themselves at home.

The trick is to keep your eyes on the prize. At the end of the day, that’s the only thing that’s really ever got him over the finish line. First thing when he wakes up and last thing when he gets into bed and any time he’s twitching, itching for relief: he closes his eyes and remembers why he’s doing this _again_.

The warm, hopeful look in Fraser’s eyes as Ray screwed up his courage and leaned in to kiss him. The way he flinched back when their lips met.

What he’s promised to do with Ray if— _when_ —Ray no longer smells like an ashtray.

Ray’s been beaten, shot, dumped, disowned, and nearly-drowned, and he’s still on his feet. He’s done this before; he can do it again. He can.

He pours himself another cup of shitty break-room coffee and heads back to his desk, where motivation is waiting for him in a bright red uniform. Piece of cake.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the line "Come back from San Francisco and kiss me, I've quit smoking" from Come Back From San Francisco by The Magnetic Fields.


End file.
